


Fiddauthor Fest 2017!

by SioDymph



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Wordcount varies each chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-06 21:47:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11609595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SioDymph/pseuds/SioDymph
Summary: All my prompts for this year's Fiddauthor week!





	1. Something Silly

**Author's Note:**

> Wow jeez I’m really behind for this fan week. But hopefully this is better late than never right? Here’s my first take on doing something silly with Stanford and Fiddleford. (I don’t know why this was so hard for me lol they’re two of the biggest dorks in the world!)

Staff at hand, the Mage stepped forwards to face the trickster Wizard, the one who had kidnapped the princess and destroyed the kingdom. Years of traveling. Years of fighting. Years of scouring the world in search of the Princess Unitainabelle. If he could just generate enough power for his spell he could defeat him. It would all be over.

He could hear the Wizard cackling as the iron gate slammed shut behind him. He knew he was here.

“Do you really think you could defeat me?” The Wizard called out, his voice echoed through the dungeon mockingly. “Normally I’d crack open your skull and steal your intelligence! But I think eating your feeble brain would lower my IQ! So I’ll just stick to killing you!”

The Mage raised his staff, he was too wound-up to think of anything quippy to say back so he was going to go straight into his spell. That would be more epic than trying to respond to the Wizards taunts, right? Just say nothing and then destroy the Wizard like it was nothing? That’d be cool.

He whispered the incantation under his breath. Light shooting out from his staff. It was now or never. He pointed his staff at the Evil Annoying Probabilitor and-

**_4_ **

He missed the Wizard’s face by several yards. His spell hit a nearby wall instead.

The Mage was dumbstruck and the Wizard just cackled louder.

“Oh hoo hoooo! Wow! I knew you were dumb but you’re really dumb!” Probabilitor said. Then raising his own staff he invoked a spell of his own and sent a bolt of green lightning down on the unlucky Mage.

~~~

“NO!”

Fiddleford laughed while Ford let his head fall on the table.

4… He only had to cast one final spell to end the game and he rolled a 4!

And Fiddleford could hardly catch his breath. Stanford had been so confident. So ready. Just to loose so horribly at the last second.

“Serves you right for getting so cocky!” Fiddleford said snorting.

Stanford lifted his head off the table at the dice in dismay. 1, 2 and 1. “So this is how it ends…” He said over dramatically and slumping back onto the table. “I can’t believe I did that! And now I’m dead…”

“Well you’re not dead yet, Stanford!”

Ford pulled his head up. “What? Probabilitor landed his third most powerful spell on me. Not even my king-grade dwarven armor could have withstood that!”

“No, no. I think you just barely survived it.” Fiddleford said. He readjusted his glasses and looked over his math from behind the Dungeon Master board. And as he looks back to Stanford, showing him his own math work, he gets back into character. “Mhmm. Yeah, you’re still alive. Weak. The fallen Mage looks up at the Wicked Wizard, Probabilitor the Annoying as he laughs… wickedly.”

He lets out a high-pitch cackle that makes Stanford grind his teeth. “What can I do?”

“The Mage is so tired… He can’t even lift himself up to stand again against Probabilitor. But his staff is still at hand. If he can find the will, he could cast just one more spell.”

Stanford frowned as he looked over his own quick-math. “Fiddleford are you sure? I used up nearly all of my magic to cast that last spell. I only have 12 points left!”

“A summoning spell is only 10 points.” Fiddleford offered.

“Call for help?” Stanford asked. “But Fiddleford, I have no one to summon. I left everyone in my party behind to go ahead on my own! No one would answer my call. I’m done for whether I use up my magic or not!”

Fiddleford just smirked as his looked at his story.

“What?” Ford asked. He hated it when Fiddleford knew something he didn’t and he’d just grin from behind his little Dungeon Master board. He could never tell if it was something good or bad heading his way when Fidds got like this.

Fiddleford said only two words that made Stanford want to tear out his hair.

“Arcbuckle Bumpterpuddingshire.”

Stanford groaned and put both hands to his hair. “The Orc raised my halflings?! Seriously?! He’s the only one!”

“You never officially took him off your party list. You only parted way temporarily in the Amethyst Forest of Violet Violence.” Fiddleford said beaming.

“Oh right. I remember now.” Ford said, he still felt a little bad for leaving the easy-going Orc back in the purple woods. He had been pretty strong and had a high level of stamina. But at the time Stanford had really wanted Kingsly, the dark-elf bandit with better espionage abilities but had a phobia of Halfling culture, in his party when they went to go ransack the ancient Amythyst castle. He lied to Kingsly about removing Arcbuckle from his party and while the two went to look for the castle he had Arcbuckle hide out in a nearby village. “And I never completely took him off my party list?”

“Nope. You told him you’d come back for him. And when you removed everyone from your party list outside of this dungeon you never mentioned his name. So he’s still there. And he’s been waiting for you to come back for him.”

Stanford pinched the bridge of his nose. “Wow. My Mage is an ass… I bet if I summon Arcbuckle now he’ll be pretty pissed at me.”

“Oh, definitely.” Fiddleford agreed, seeming to get happier the more Stanford was dismayed. “But what other choice do you have? You need help and he’s your final friend.”

He was right. Stanford had no choice left. He could either call Arcbuckle for help, or suffer alone and die.

So sighing in defeat, Stanford collected up his dice. “I use 10 magic points on a summoning spell. I call out to Arcbuckle Bumpterpuddingshire for help.”

It was a low-power spell so his dice easily made it work. And Fiddleford pulled out Arcbuckle’s abandoned piece as he narrated. And he set the little Orc next to Stanford’s little Mage.

“He answered your call. Slicing his way through time and space with his enchanted sword to find you here. Fallen and weak before Probabilitor. The evil Wizard who stole his adoptive family’s strawberries and blackberries. Leaving them in ruin. He is disappointed in his dear friend, the Mage, but that anger is nothing compared to the hellish inferno he feels towards Probabilitor the Annoying. What shall he do?”

“Arcbuckle hits the Wizard with everything he has.” Stanford says. “Whatever the most destructive attack his sword has.”

“And so. Arcbuckle charges at the wizard! ‘No one hurts my friends and no one hurts my family!’ he roared.” Fiddleford said, getting fully into character and giving Arcbuckle the deepest, raspiest voice he could muster before continuing to roll his dice behind the board. “And with one swing, he puts all his strength into his sword…”

“And…”

Fiddleford said nothing, just looking down at his dice and scribbling down some math to double check. Going purposefully slow, he picked up the Probabilitor model and the Orc piece.

“Oh for the love of- Stop trying to build up the dramatics and just say it!”

“Arcbuckle’s sword landed on Probabilitor the annoying’s neck. And with a sword so magical and an arm so mighty… Arcbuckle cut the Wizard’s head clean off and sent it flying into another dimension!”

Stanford got up from his chair shouting and scooping Fiddleford into a hug. “Yes! Oh thank god! He did it! We won!”

Fiddleford laughed as Stanford swung him around and set him back on the ground. “And so, Probabilitor has been defeated and the game is complete!”

“Excelsior!” Ford said, triumphantly. “Finally… that story felt like it went on forever.”

“It wasn’t that long actually. We just had to keep taking huge breaks in-between sessions.” Fiddleford said.

As Stanford calmed down, he frowned a little. “Does it have to end right there? You know, with Arc buckle killing Probabilitor… Cause my Mage character never got to apologize to him. And especially since he saved his life.”

Fiddleford, seeming to read his mind picked up the Mage and Orc pieces. “After the bloody, bloody magical carnage, Arcbuckle turned back to his friend, still on the brink of death on the ground. And…” He rolled his dice quickly and smiled at the result. “He used another teleportation spell to safely get his friend to a hospital back in his hometown.”

“And as he recovered, the Mage apologized to Arcbuckle.” Stanford continued. “He regretted the way he treated his friend and asked for forgiveness.”

“And he was easily forgiven. While Orc blood ran fiery through his veins he had been raised to be kind and merciful by his family. After all, the Mage was a dear friend to him so Arcbuckle let go of the grudge he once held against the Mage.” Fiddleford added on.

“And the Mage gave him the seeds! The seeds he bought while in the skeleton-demon marketplace. Their resistant to almost all forces of nature. My Mage gives Arcbuckle the seeds for his family’s farm! And-”

“I’ll need you to roll for dexterity.” Fiddleford said.

“Seriously? Technically, the games already over so-”

“Dexterity!”

Stanford sighed, rolling his dice. “Fine! I roll to see if I have enough dexterity to give my friend a bag of seeds. And…”

Stanford looks at his dice and Fiddleford slaps a hand over his mouth.

“… And my Mage drops the bag. The seeds spill out onto the hospital floor.”


	2. Snuggles and Cuddles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty and here’s my take on Day 2!
> 
> I’ve decided since I enjoyed it so much for a few other fan weeks I’ve done this month, I’m going to accept Fiddauthor Requests for this fanweek too! So if there’s any Fiddauthor ideas you’d like to see me write, just send me a request and I’ll start writing them after all the main prompts for the week! I’ll be taking requests until August 4th! 
> 
> Until then, I hope you enjoy!

There were a few cracks of thunder outside when Fiddleford suddenly woke up. The sound was muted but the light was still there. And that rumble that shook his chest.

All at once it was gone and Fiddleford was left wide awake in near darkness. The only sound being the rain outside pouring down.

He looked about the room trying to find something familiar. This was big, this whole place was too damn big to be his shed. Even the bed was gigantic. He could have had Betsy’s whole family in here lined up from striped tail to masked face and still there’d be plenty of room left over. It couldn’t possibly- He definitely wasn’t in his shed.

Someone must have swiped him in. Snatched him out of the dump while he was sleeping. But why? Why take him?

Normally when landslide season swept through the town once or twice a kind family had invited him into their home to wait out the worst of the rain. But that was only when he was out and about. No one ever nabbed him while he was napping. The whole thing felt off and raised his hackles.

But then, as his hands fisted at soft sheets and a home-made quilt important pieces of his memory reset and everything was back in its place.

This was his house. Even if it didn’t feel like it this was his. He bought it with his own money. And he got that money from finally putting patents on many of his machines. And he still had loads of money left over. Fiddleford Hadron McGucket was a nationally accredited inventor and engineer and he was so rich he didn’t know what to do with all his money still. This was his home. He was safe.

And he was still recovering from years-worth of brain trauma. From wiping his memory so often.

Fiddleford sighed as he laid back down to get comfortable again. The storm must have shocked him awake. And he must have been in a deep sleep too, for feeling so disoriented at first. It was a curious effect that his memory had also relapsed when he was forced awake. He ought to write that down.

It was a habit he started ever since the Pines kids helped him rediscover himself. He’d taken to keeping a journal to write down any memories, strange dreams, or weird feelings. It helped him recover better when his memory relapsed plus it gave him a way to map out his progress.

He crawled across the bed to find a notebook he’d left on the night stand. And as he scrawled in his memory lapse he felt the bed shift.

“Fidds?” Stanford’s voice sounded heavy with sleep.

“Right here, darlin’.” Fiddleford whispered, crawling back over towards his fiancé. When another flash of lightning illuminated the room he saw Ford’s engagement ring sparkle. The sight still brought a smile to his face. He’d made the ring himself with his wielding tools. Catered to fit his boyfriend’s hand perfectly. And never in all his years, especially in his younger years did he ever dream he could have this with Stanford Pines. And yet here they were.

As soon as he was in arm’s reach Stanford grabbed Fiddleford and hugged him close. He pecked Stanford’s face with a couple kisses and pulled the blankets back around them. Outside as thunder rumbled and lightning cracked they were safe from the elements, all snuggled up together.

“What are you doing up Fidds?” Stanford asked.

“Storm woke me up.” Fiddleford explained plainly as he squirmed around a little, trying to get comfy. “And I had a tiny relapse in ma’memory.”

That made Stanford wake up more. He held Fiddleford a little tighter and ran a hand up and down his arm. “Are you feeling ok?”

“I’m fine now, hun, don’t you go worrying. It wasn’t even a full relapse. It was real quick. Like my mind had a lil’hiccup.” Fiddleford said trying to be soothing. Between his problems and Stanley’s own issues, Fiddleford knew how much Stanford had come to care about memories. To all of the Pines family really.

But his words seemed to work and Stanford relaxed some. But he still didn’t let go of Fiddleford. Not that Fiddleford even dreamed of complaining. It was nice, being held so close by someone he loved. Just the two of them sharing this peaceful moment together, in the dead of night, in the middle of a raging thunderstorm.

Wrapping his arms around Stanford, he let himself sink down into the bed. And following the steady rise and fall of Ford’s chest he slowly began to fall back to sleep.

But Stanford’s voice pulled him back away from sleep. “You still awake Fidds?”

“For now.” Fiddleford replied. He was wrapped up in warm blankets and it was raining outside so he couldn’t be held accountable for his actions. “Why? Something on your mind hun?”

He felt Ford nod, his head unintentionally nuzzling into Fiddleford’s. “Yes. Actually, I wanted to ask you something. About your memory?”

“And what is it?” Fiddleford asked in a sleepy voice.

“Do you recall our time in the bunker?”

“Sure do.” Fiddleford said. He tried to keep from yawning but it was hopeless now. “I actually liked it down there. Ya’know, before the whole incident? It had this cozy sorta safe feeling.”

“It was nice there.” Stanford agreed.

“And you only put in one bed… Honestly, I think you did that on purpose.”

He could feel the heat rising off of Stanford as he tried to defend himself. “I never intended for it to be that way! I got so wrapped up in the construction I didn’t give the bunker’s furnishings much thought.”

“Sure you did.”

“I did! I swear Fidds, I had no ulterior motives in all that!”

Fiddleford said, turning around to kiss Stanford in the nose. “I know hun. ‘Sides, I wasn’t one to complain back then. Certainly don’t now.”

Stanford snorted a little at that, kissing Fiddleford back on the forehead in retaliation. “It is funny how things like that can come back around…” He said a little whistfully.

“Bet we’d be out of our damn minds though if we saw how we were living now.” Fiddleford added with a little laugh. “Living like kings in the Northwest Manor. In a bed like this!”

“I would have been jealous for sure. We were struggling to both fit on a twin back then.”

“And you act like we still are.” Fiddleford teased. They had a bed that took up the entire room and yet they always huddled close together to cuddle.

He loved feeling Stanford’s whole chest move when he laughed. “Old habits die hard, ey?”

“Good thing I don’t mind none.” Fiddleford said, reaching up to kiss his fiancé back one last time on the cheek. “Night darlin’.”

“Sweet dreams Fidds.”

Fiddleford focused back on Stanford’s steady rise and fall. Listening to his heartbeat. And the pair slowly began to fall back asleep for the rest of the night.


	3. Hurt/Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here’s my prompt for Day 3! (still one day late lol, but if I can get Day 4 done today too I’ll be back on track!)
> 
> Also another reminder I am more than happy to take any Fiddauthor requests for this fan week! I’m accepting requests all this week and part of next, till August 4th!

It was a few days after… after Weirdmaggedon was stopped. Many of the refugees in the mystery shack had gone back to their own homes now that everything was safe. But a few folks decided to stay longer for one reason or another. Candy and Grenda were having sleepovers several days in a row now and Lil’ Miss Pacifica kept coming back to the shack in the evening to avoid her family. And Fiddleford was starting to think some of them gnomes were just lost. Or maybe they were trying to freeload just a little bit longer.

But he wasn’t quite sure what he was waiting for.

While he helped put the broken house back together again he didn’t have any real reason to stay. The war was over. He could go back to the Junkyard, hell he could even go back down to the bunker. But every time he felt like leaving his feet seemed to stall. And since the Pines family never asked him to leave or gave him a reason he stayed.

All this kept running through his head as he lay awake in the mystery shack living room.

He felt he should leave. Go home and continue to regain his memories on his own. But he felt drawn to this house. He always had he now realized. Even before he fully understood why he use to come here. And now that he understood why…

When he heard the secret door open in the other room, his body shivered almost instinctively.

He knew it was the vending machine. He’d helped rebuild the damn thing. He’d traveled up and down it countless times in his youth. He’d even been down there a few times after everything went back to normal. He’d seen for himself the Stanford’s portal, their portal was completely dismantled.

But he could still see the machine in his mind. Hear that deafening hum when it came to life. Feel himself rise up off the ground…

When footsteps came towards the living room Fiddleford pretended to be sleeping. Curling up into a tight ball on the sofa so no one could see his face. Making his chest rise and fall slower than his rapid heartbeat. He wasn’t even sure why he was fake-sleeping. He didn’t have any qualms left towards Stanford.

Fiddleford could feel his eyes on him. Looking directly at him. Then after a few minutes those pinpricks on the back of his neck finally subsided and he heard Stanford’s boots thud heavily up the stairs.

He was prepared to calm down and try to actually get some shut-eye. But then he saw the bathroom light turn on upstairs and that undeniable hiss Stanford made when he was trying to be quiet when he was hurt. Fiddleford must have heard it billions of times. Back in college when he burned his hand in their chem lab and didn’t want anyone to know he messed up. When he moved out here and Stanford got several nasty cuts from some fairies. And countless other times he was still trying to fully remember he was certain.

So instead of staying on the sofa, Fiddleford got up and quietly padded up the stairs. And before he could lose his nerve he knocked on the door.

“Stanford? You ok in there? Ya sound hurt.”

At first he didn’t hear anything. Then he heard Stanford sigh.

“The doors unlocked.”

Fiddleford stepped in cautiously. But nothing could have prepared him for the state his old friend was in.

The red sweater he’d been wearing for days now was off. And the skin under it was next to unrecognizable. Old scars of cuts, gashes, bullet wounds, burns were scattered across his body. There were several tattoos but many of them had faded with time, but most were damaged and warped by the scaring. And what looked like the freshest wounds, three burns wrapped around both his wrists and his neck.

“Looks pretty bad, doesn’t it?” Stanford said sheepishly, looking back at Fiddleford from the bathroom mirror.

“Sweet sarsaparilla, Stanford! How in the hell-“

Stanford cut him off, looking down at the sink as he spoke. “Bill. While I was captured. He wanted the equation to Weirdness Magnetism I calculated for the town. And I refused to give it to him.”

“Oh Stanford…” Fiddleford stepped closer, like he was approaching an animal. “You mind if I help ya with those burns there?”

Stanford looked like he was going to say no, and Fiddleford was prepared to go back down to the living room and pretend none of this ever happened. But then Stanford did something different. He relented. And gestured over to several bottles and gauze he had lined up on the counter.

“If you don’t mind? I… I might have some trouble getting the burns on my neck.”

Fddleford lost track of time after that. He focused solely on the burns in front of him while Stanford got to work on his own wrists. And going through the whole process of cleaning and wrapping the burns, it was like engaging some sort of muscle memory for Fiddleford. In both the way his hands moved so steady, trying to be gentle, and also the nervous ache that crawled through his guts at the sight of the burns.

And being so close now he could see the burns and their smaller details much clearer. Along the angry red ring around Stanford’s neck, there were tiny needle-thick white scars that seemed to shoot out towards his spine and the back of his head. And he could only hope all those tiny scars weren’t signs of anything worse Bill had done to Stanford.

He tried to forget the lightning scars though as he wrapped Stanford’s neck up with gauze. And as he looked over his handiwork he heard Stanford speak up.

“Thank you Fidds. For your help… I know I’ve done nothing to de-“

Before Fiddleford could stop himself he rolled his eyes and gave Stanford a light shove. “Oh hush up! I meant what I said back at that floatin’ pyramid. We need to forgive. Keep the past where it belongs.”

He watched as Stanford’s whole body shifted when he took a deep breath. “That’s something I’ve been working on.”

“But I think we’re getting there.” Fiddleford said. “You know, I really missed you.”

Finally for the first time since Fiddleford stepped into the room, Stanford turned back around. And they were face to face.

“I’ve missed you too, Fidds.”


	4. Awkwardness/Crushing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I actually got a prompt done on its actual day! (Just barely lol) I had a lot of fun with this one, gave me a good excuse to insert some of my favorite crossover characters and give Ford and Fidds the full nerd-herd they deserve lol
> 
> And just a reminder I’m taking fiddauthor requests till August 4th so send any stories you’d like to see my way!

Every Wednesday when he had the time, Fiddleford always met up with a few of his friends in the campus library to go over their physics work. Their own unofficial study group of sorts. Though if Fiddleford was honest, most of the time they usually got side-tracked and goofed-off, especially when Rick Sanchez high-jacked the conversation. But today it was Fiddleford’s own head keeping him distracted. He caught sight of his lab partner in Organic Chemistry walking through aisles searching for books. His friend’s argument began to fall on deaf ears as he kept looking longingly at his lab partner.

“I don’t get what you see in him, the guy’s a total dick.”

Fiddleford immediately turned around, he could already feel his face burn up. “You shut your mouth right now Rick!”

Rick just shrugged. “I’m just saying. He’s super weird too. You ever have a real conversation with him?”

“Of course, we’re in the same laboratory for three hours straight!” Fiddleford snapped back. Usually he and Rick got along fine, but whenever he got all antagonistic like this Fiddleford couldn’t help but feel testy.

“Jesus, I don’t know how you do it, man.” Rick said groaning. “Like, I was his lab partner all last semester and I wanted to beat the shit out of him. He never let me do anything!”

“That’s probably because you never actually do the lab assignments.” Betty Grof piped in from across the table. “I’ve seen you dude, you just mess around with stuff and bs the lab reports. I have no idea how you pass any of your classes.”

He smirked, kicking his legs up. “Me neither. I’m pretty sure ever professor here hates my guts-“

As the two kept talking Fiddleford felt himself drawn back towards Stanford. He had this adorably determined look on his face and he kept looking between the list in his hand and the shelves of books surrounding him. Fiddleford couldn’t help but notice his lab partner had a really nice face. Especially whenever he looked up, all Fidleford could focus on was that jawline and the way his eyes sparked. And when he’d look back down at his list his hair would bounce a little.

He got so wrapped up in the sight he jumped when he felt a hand jostle his shoulder. It was Simon. He looking at him curiously. “How long have you known this guy? I don’t think I even heard about him till Rick started complaining about him.”

“Since the beginning of spring semester.” Fiddleford explained, sounding wistful. “That’s when we were in the same lab. He said he was late signing up for school and had all evening classes. That’s why we never saw him anywhere in fall. He’s also pretty shy so he never went out much.”

“Oh that’s a shame. So what’s he like? Cause Rick didn’t paint the most flattering picture.” Simon asked.

Fiddleford wasn’t quite sure where to begin. There was a lot about Stanford he had noticed in the short time they had been living together. Some of it might be too much even. “Well… He’s a pretty sweet fella. Shy like I said, real quiet. But once you get to know him you find out he’s pretty nice. And as much as he’ll try to deny it, you can tell he’s really excited to be here. Has a lot of passion for science and just… just discovering new things. Just a really sweet guy.”

“Hmmm, seems like it.” Simon said. “We should invite him over!”

“What? No! No no no. I barely talk to him outside of class. I never even see him normally! And he’s pretty shy! Uh- um plus Stanford and Rick don’t have the best… impression on each other.” Fiddleford said rushed. He had no idea what would happen if Stanford joined their circle. He hated to think it might ruin things between him and Ford.

Simon frowned at him. “You sure? He sounds like he would fit right in. Plus if he doesn’t have many friends like you said…”

“I wouldn’t want to put him on the spot though! Please Simon, things are alright where they are. So let’s just keep things… normal.” Fiddleford said, slouching down and giving Stanford one more longing look.

It was nice having him as a lab partner and a friend. Even if they weren’t the closest they appreciated what they had. But Fiddleford knew how he felt inside. The way he’d never dare say in front of his family back home, yet said so freely in front of Rick, Simon and Betty. The three of them might understand him, but who could say Stanford would be as understanding? And… and he really didn’t want to risk destroying what he had right now…

But much to his dismay, Simon wasn’t giving up. “Well what if Stanford doesn’t want to keep things ‘normal’ either?”

“What? I don’t-“

“Cause he’s been looking back here this whole time too.”

“What!?” Unable to stop himself, Fiddleford snapped his head around. He caught Stanford burying his head into a random textbook as fast as he could.

Dag’nabit… They both knew the other was here. Why did things have to be so awkward? Simon gave him an expectant look, to go up and say hi to him but Fiddleford felt frozen in his spot. Why did he always have to be so weird?

Then all at once, Simon got up from their table. “Alright, that’s it! I’m inviting him over!”

“Simon Petrikov, don’t you dare-”

But he was already walking away. Directly over to Stanford. And began animatedly talking to him and gesturing back to their table. Fiddleford’s face felt like a furnace.

And when Simon came back to their table with Stanford in tow Fiddleford wanted to curl up and die.

Stanford came to the table curious, but when he saw Rick there his smile quickly fell.

“Rick.”

“Stan.” Rick said back smugly.

Stanford obviously hated the nickname but decided not to say anything about it. When he looked around the table and saw Fiddleford, he started smiling again. Almost beaming. “Oh Fiddleford! Hi! I uh- I didn’t see you there.”

Fiddleford, who had sunk half-way off his chair and under the table awkwardly pulled himself back up. “Hi’ya.” He said sheepishly.

“Your friend Simon here, invited me to join your study group.” Ford said, gesturing to Simon as he spoke. Simon in part offered him a chair and Ford seemed to need a few seconds to fully process what was happening and sat down. Right next to Fiddleford. “So, you’re all studying physics.”

As he and Betty began talking, and Rick kept interrupting them and instigating Stanford, Fiddleford took a moment to glare daggers at Simon. Mentally screaming ‘Simon Petrikov I cannot believe you! If we weren’t friends you’d be a dead man!’ But Simon just gave him a cheeky smile.

Fiddleford couldn’t decide whether he want to thank Simon or beat him, or if he wanted to run away from the table or stay. He’d felt so distracted seeing Stanford on the other side of the library, but now that he was sitting directly next to him he could barely think straight.

And then Stanford just had to turn around and smile at him. And Fiddleford couldn’t stop himself from seeing that slight blush on his nose and cheeks too. He always managed to look so cute. And despite what he said about being terrible at making new friends he seemed to warm up quickly to Simon and Betty. And even while he’d glower at Rick he still respected him enough to listen to what the other man said. Maybe this could work. It could be nice having a fifth member on their team. And it would give him a way to see Stanford more often. Maybe they could become better friends? And if he was reading the looks Stanford kept giving him-

Crap! He’d just asked him something while Fiddleford wasn’t listening. He was pointing down to a series of equations he’d scribbled out. Fiddleford tried to mentally slap himself back into reality and focus on the equations in front of him. But even as he worked through the problem, he was still hyper-aware of how close Stanford was sitting to him.


	5. Something Sweet/Sappy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here’s my day 5 prompt! I decided to write out Stanford trying to treat his sweetheart to a date! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also I’m happy to take Fiddauthor requests until August 4th!

Stanford took a deep breath as he looked himself over in the mirror. He hoped he looked alright. He was trying to look a little more formal tonight. But still a little casual. He didn’t want to go too overboard. After all he and Fiddleford had never been ones for super fancy-living, it just wasn’t how either of them were. Even if they were living in a multi-million-dollar mansion together. They had been married for nearly half a year now and Ford just felt this urge to try and do something a little spontaneous. Something that would really catch Fidds off-guard.

So for tonight he had ditched his sweater for a pressed button-up shirt. It still felt a bit strange to Ford. His sweater had become like a second skin to him. And that fact felt all the more obvious as he tucked the dress shirt into a pair of dress pants. At least he’d given himself some leeway and decided his tan coat could work for not-too-normal-but-still-nicer-than-normal.

He wanted tonight to be nicer than normal. And as he walked down one of the sweeping staircases he kept his fingers crossed that tonight would go according to plan. It was 6 which meant Fiddleford would probably still be in his workshop. After buying the place Fiddleford had renovated one of the ballrooms to become his new workshop for all his inventions, taking advantage of the giant domed ceiling for his bigger mechs that took up a lot of space. And if Stanford didn’t intervene, Fiddleford usually came out of his workshop around 10’ish.

As he approached the giant wooden doors leading to the ballroom-turned-workshop, Ford thought over his date-night plans one last time. He could hear engine humming inside the ballroom and the occasional screech of metal being cut. He hoped he didn’t barge in while Fiddleford was in the middle of something. He wanted tonight to be more spontaneous but he hated to think he might be disrupting his husband’s work. He’d thought about waiting till 10 to go get Fiddleford but his reservation time was specific for 7:30 sharp so he didn’t have too much choice on the matter.

And he’d never know he was interrupting Fiddleford unless he actually stepped into the room and talked to him.

Trying to collect himself and shove the nerves he felt back down into his gut he pounded on the door as loudly as he could so Fiddleford could hear him from inside the giant room over all his equipment. After a few moments he heard the engine cut off abruptly and he heard his husband holler.

“Alright! You can come on in!”

Stepping into the room, Stanford’s eyes scanned around the room looking for Fidds. Eventually he spotted him. Fiddleford was hanging off his latest project. From what Stanford saw it looked like some sort of giant mechanical squid. And Fiddleford was high off the ground, working on one of its giant eyes from a swing contraption. And between that and the jean overalls he was sporting Stanford couldn’t help but think of those old vintage photos of construction workers building the first skyscrapers.

“Howdy darlin’!” Fiddleford called out from above, before twisting a few levers on his swing and lowering himself back to the ground. “Now what brings you-”

He was dusting off his pants as he stepped off the swing. But when he finally looked up at Ford he all but froze with surprise. “Well I’ll be. Whas- What’s the occasion, hun?”

“No occasion.” Stanford said. Unconsciously fiddling with the buttoned sleeves on the dress shirt. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, you certainly did that! Look at you, all dapper’n done up!” Fiddleford said nearly beaming. He took both of Stanford’s hands in his so he could get a better view.

He couldn’t help but shrink back seeing admiration so clear on Fiddleford’s face and he tried to remember what he’d wanted to say next. “Would you, care to join me? For dinner? I made reservations for this new place down by the lake. I’m sorry if you were… In the middle of anything important. I wanted it to be a surprise, but I already told you that…”

Fiddleford stepped in closer, if Stanford knew better he would have thought Fiddleford were trying to dance with him. “I’d be delighted.”

That nearly-dancing feeling was still there even as Fiddleford pulled away and looked down at himself. “I need to go clean-up though. What time’s your dinner set for?”

“7:30.”

“Alright. I got time.” Fiddleford said with a little relief. Then he looked over Stanford smiling. “And I’ll have to find somethin’to wear. Something nice and pretty.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard, you look amazing no matter what you wear.” Stanford said with a slight blush but trying to keep his voice steady.

Fiddleford shoved him and broke-out in a sharp bark of laughter. “Stanford Pines, you flirt! You’re too much darlin’!”

As he rose up to his tiptoes Stanford bent down a little so Fiddleford could peck him on the cheek. “I’ll go get ready then! Be back in a few minutes.”

Stanford watched as he skipped away. That had gone well enough. And he was really looking forwards to their date. They both enjoyed Gravity Falls’s lake-shore, it was probably one of Stanford’s favorite spots in town.

He just hoped he could get his nerves under control. This felt like their wedding day all over again. It’s was just a little date for pete’s sake!

Stanford kept mentally scolding himself and trying to pull himself together until Fiddleford came back down. Via sliding down the giant staircase’s banister and leaping off and landing nimbly on the ground. Fiddleford was wearing one of his favorite shirts, warm-tones floral print with dress pants and one of his “classy” pairs of shoes that always made Stanford think of old-timey tap shoes. His hair had been cleaned and combed and his beard was styled into a tuft. Handsome as always.

As he approached Stanford offered him his arm. Fiddleford smirked and hugged him.

“Such a gentleman.” He said, snuggling closer to Fords side. “Ready to go?”

Ford nodded back. And arm in arm the two walked out of their house to go on their date.

~~~~

Things had been going well enough. There was still this annoying nervousness Stanford couldn’t get rid of but overall he was happy. They had a table outside overlooking the lake. The sun was setting making everything look peachy, even a little fiery, while the shadows grew darker and longer.

Stanford picked at a little bit of his dinner when Fiddleford spoke up.

“It’s lovely out tonight.”

Ford hummed in reply. It really was. In the distance he could see a few ominous glowing orbs bobbing up and down in the water. And if he squinted he could just make out a small swarm of fairies on the other side of the lake near the cliff range. They made the water flicker with a little light.

He tried to pull himself back towards the table, here with Fiddleford. He was looking back towards the restaurant where a band was playing music. The strings of light overhead and the fading sunset made him look golden. And there was a soft smile on his face that melted Ford’s heart.

Not giving himself the time to back down, he swallowed down that nervous jittering in his guts and gently took one of Fidds’s hands. “Hey Fidds?”

Fidds turned back to him but made no move to pull his hand out of Stanford’s. “Hm?”

“I… I just wanted to say, thank you. For coming out here tonight. With me.”

“Of course! Thank you for bringing me here.” Fiddleford said in reply. Patting Ford’s arm and swinging their hands back and forth a little. “I like it here…”

They spent the rest of the evening eating dinner and watching the sky darken, stars begin shining brighter in the sky.

Hand in hand.


	6. Parallel Fiddauthor/A Better World AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve always loved this au so I had a lot of fun with this one! Hope y’all enjoy!
> 
> And just so you know I’m accepting Fiddauthor requests till August 4th! And if you’ve already made a request you can expect those to be published soon after I finish up all the week’s prompts!

Fiddleford could only watch as the Stanford gave him one last look before turning around and disappearing through a cosmic tear. Gone forever. It was highly improbable he’d ever see the man again.

As soon as the tear disappeared from existence. His husband opened the door and came in. He’d been following them around at a safe distance he whole time the Stanford was there. And as he rushed into the room Fiddleford knew he’d probably wanted to catch a glimpse of the dimensional tear with his own eyes.  But he was too late. It was just the two of them now.

“Fiddleford.” He heard his husband say. “Are you ok?”

Fiddleford sighed and turned around. “I’m fine Stanford.”

His Stanford was much greyer than the young man before. A bit more worn too. But then again, he and Fidds were always a pair so Fiddleford was no spring chicken either.

Still, it was always curious to see that other perspective. Notice things about Stanford he hadn’t when he’d been that age. Like the way his hair curled into a floof. A silver floof now. Or the smile lines he had on his face even before the wrinkles started to form.

That hand he’d known for years now, and hand utterly unique and beautiful came down to and grabbed his arm gently.

“You sure? You look a little shaken.”

He put his hand over Stanford, feeling all the wrinkles and spots along it. “I’m gonna miss him. I hope he does alright. Out there in the multi-verse, all on his lonesome.”

He felt Stanford’s other arm come and wrap around him. “I’m sure he’ll be alright. He may have messed up in the past, but he wants to do better. And I know he will.”

He was trying to sound reassuring. For both their sakes. But they both knew the truth. The world was infinite. In realities. In choices. Heck, in versions of Fidds and Fords and everyone else they ever met! There were so many possibilities. Nothing was certain for the Stanford Fiddleford had temporarily known.

Stanford pulled him quickly from his thoughts. Gesturing to the door. And side by side they walked out together.

“It’s just so strange to think about,” Stanford mused quietly, almost more to himself than Fiddleford. “How there’s an entire world where if I hadn’t listened to you- If Bill…”

“I know…” Fiddleford agreed. The name still gave him shivers. And now that the other Stanford had confirmed his fears… Their whole world, their only home, could have been utterly destroyed. Ripped apart by Bill and cast aside like a ruined toy. “But… But that didn’t happen! We figured out that triangle’s dastardly scheme. None of that happened I our world. None of it…”

“I hope so.” Stanford agreed.

They walked in silence for a few moments. After so many years working as partners and being a couple their minds were synced and they found themselves heading towards their portal laboratory. To ensure the gateway they’d constructed back in their youth was still stable.

After going a few stories down to the lab and running hundreds of tests till they were satisfied, they were able to confirm their portal was still fully functional. And no signs of tampering. And no sign of any demons or any triangular lifeforms trying to contact their dimension.

Fiddleford could breathe a little easier after that. But only a little. There was still a Stanford Pines now wandering through the universe completely alone.

Now that he thought about there might be hundreds… _thousands_ of different Stanfords out there in the world. Trying to find their homes. And how many of them could ever find it?

Stanford must have felt his anxiety still and back towards him from his own spot near the gate generators. He had a grim look on his face. But he still looked towards Fiddleford with worry.

“Are you sure you’re ok?”

Fiddleford sighed, he could feel himself crumple a little. “There’s nothing else we could have done. Not without knowing his coordinates.”

“I wish there was another way to contact other dimensions.” Ford said. Fiddleford could see the gears churning in his head.

“Yeah, a way to identify someone directly by their dimensional origins instead of their genetic code.” Fiddleford mused. “Cause if he were your age, I doubt there’d be anyway to tell the two of you apart!”

“That’s probably be another reason it’s so dangerous for parallel individuals to meet. Even if the universe could allow it, how could you tell everyone apart?”

Fiddleford shrugged, giving their gateway another glance. “Maybe if we ever meet another Stanford we could continue this research. It’d be a shame it all might end here. He was a sweet fella, really fascinating to meet another you.”

“He did provide some interesting discoveries too.” Stanford said. “It turns out we shared nearly identical DNA samples. And from what he claimed we had very similar childhoods. The only differences came later in our lives. And Stanley… I wish I could have discussed with him in person.”

They both knew that was too risky, who knew what it could do to reality and world order if someone saw themselves. But Fiddleford found himself agreeing anyways. At several points the Stanford had said a few words about his old life. His own Fiddleford. And his own brother. He’d tried to be comforting as he could as an outsider. He knew Stanford had been listening in over the speakers, but he never risked saying anything. He wondered if Stanford might have been able to say something more encouraging.

But there wasn’t anything they could do for him now. For now they could only hope.

As they watched their most ambitious project, their magnum opus, Fiddleford said a silent prayer for the wandering Stanford.

That he’d make it back home. That he’d reconcile with his own brother. That he’d reconcile with his own Fiddleford. That he’d find his family.

Fiddleford had no idea what he’d do if he ever lost Stanford. If all those years ago their fall-out had gone much worse. He couldn’t even imagine how it could have gone. But it was enough that Fiddleford realized he’d been squeezing Ford’s arm tighter and tighter.

But he felt Stanford squeeze back and gave him a small smile.

They could only hope that Stanford was doing ok now. And that he would find his way home.


	7. Post-Weirdmaggedon Fiddauthor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty and here’s my last official prompt from Fiddauthor week! I’ve had so much fun with this week and even while it’s nearing its end I can’t wait to see everything made till the 4th and after too! We may be small but you’re all so talented and I love seeing everything you all draw and reading everything you write!
> 
> And just so you folks know I’m taking requests too until the 4th!

It was the kids’s birthday. They were now officially teenagers. Even while Stanford had known them for only a short time he still found himself surprised as he watched them unwrap their presents from the whole town.

He remembered when he and Stan were their age. It was almost funny how polar opposite their birthday party seemed to go. Out all day in the summer sun, a gigantic party with friends and family. When Stanley and he had turned 13 a snowstorm had blown through town so the only person to come to their party was their grandmother. It honestly hadn’t been that bad. He and Stanley had stayed up watching the snow bury the street outside and writing their own pirate-explorer stories. But he was happy Mabel and Dipper got to celebrate with something a bit more special. Especially after the hell they all just went through.

Most of the festivities had died down now. Stanford was sitting outside on the back porch, Stan and the kids and all their friends were further out into the woods lighting up sparklers and glow sticks. And if Ford didn’t know better he would have sworn there were some extra lights trailing behind them. Fairies no doubt, innocuous cave fairies from the shades of chartreuse.

He saw someone coming back up towards the house. As they got closer, Ford recognized their bearded face clear as day.

“Fiddleford!” Stanford called out, waving.

Fiddleford seemed shocked at first, looking around wildly, but when he squinted and saw Stanford in front of the house he started waving back. Walking towards the shack a lot faster than before and bounding up the stairs.

“Well howdy Stanford!” Fiddleford said with a wide smile that seemed to brighten his whole face. And Stanford couldn’t help but smile back. Probably looked like a big dork.

Dammit! It’d been 30 years and neither of them had really changed much, had they?

There had been some changes, Stanford tried to reason with himself. A lot of changes for the better.

He skootched to the side and offered Fidds a spot on the sofa, which Fiddleford happily took plopping down next to him.

“Today’s been quite the day, huh?”

“You could say that.” Stanford said with a little laugh. “I’m happy the kids enjoyed themselves.”

“Yeah, they deserve something nice after all that unpleasantness.” Fiddleford agreed.

Stanford sighed. “You know I’m still shocked. Everything… It all ended up ok. Cause you know there were a few points then when-“

“But it all worked out.” Fiddleford said, skootching a little closer and setting his hand on Stanford’s arm, then sliding it down till they were holding hands. “It all worked out in the end, right?”

Fiddleford’s hand on his made him relax again. But he still couldn’t stop thinking about everything. “It did. But none of it would have been possible, without Stanley and you, and the kids.”

“They’re real sweet kids. You and Stan should be very proud… Kind to a fault, lord knows they’ve helped me this summer. And they’re awfully bright. Both of em’.”

“They are.” Stanford said wistfully. “You know what Mabel said to me the first time we met? Right after I came out of the portal?”

“What?” Fiddleford asked.

“That’s one finger more friendlily than normal.”

That made Fiddleford laugh. It was a quiet sort of laugh. And Stanford was suddenly hyper-aware of how close the two were sitting now. He almost moved back when he saw Stan and all the kids but thought better of it. Everything was fine. Things were different. And even if they weren’t he and Stan had each other’s backs. Stanford greeted them as they came in. And watched as they all piled into the kitchen for cocoa. Mabel ran in first with her two friends in tow and talking about the possibility of making purple hot chocolate with blue sparkles. And Dipper tagged a just a little bit behind with all his older friends and the Pacifica girl.

It was nice, knowing the two of them had so many friends. Even if you only ever needed just one it made Stanford feel better to know they had a stronger support then he or Stanley had at that age.

As he passed Stanley said nothing but gave him a wink and smirk. And Stanford for his part glowered at his brother as he closed the door.

Then it was just him and Fiddleford again. Siting in near-silence, appreciating one of the last summers in Gravity Falls this year.

All at once it really began to hit Stanford. Summer was over. He and Stan would be going on their expedition in a few months. But Dipper and Mabel…

“They head home tomorrow morning.” Ford said, his whole body seemed to rise and fall as he took a deep breath. God dammit it was really starting to set in now. He’d barely gotten to meet them and they’d be leaving so soon.

Fiddleford patted Stanford’s arm. “Oh, that’s a shame to see them leave so soon. So they’re gonna be in middle school or start high school?”

“Last year of middle school. They said they can come back here next summer.” When Stanford spoke again Fiddleford heard a wetness growing that wasn’t there before. “I… I’m really going to miss them still.”

Fiddleford turned to look at him directly he saw unshed tears pricking the man’s eyes. He squeezed his hand tighter. And he pulled him into a warm hug. “Come here, come on over here. I’m sure they’ll be fine Stanford.”

He felt Stanford wrap his arms around him after some slight hesitation. His voice was shaky. “I know, Fidds, I really do. Dipper and Mabel, they’re good kids. Smart kids. And they have each other. It’s just… I never thought I’d ever have a great niece and nephew.”

“Oh Stanford…” Fiddleford murmured, rubbing at his back a little.

“At least any family I’d ever meet in person… Even before the portal when I was living out here on my own. No one in my family was ever that close. And I’d become such a recluse. And then after I was gone, I sorta accepted that fact that- I really never expected this. Any of this!”

Fiddleford didn’t know what to say to that. He’d never dreamed of any of this happening either. And yet everything that had gone wrong had miraculously come back together again. Even If it had taken a few extra years, decades actually, things had been made right in the end. He was still trying to figure out exactly how he felt about it all. So in the meantime he just kept hugging Stanford, rubbing at his back lightly and humming.

And while Stanford never actually cried he never stopped hugging Fiddleford either. And after a while his breath stopped feeling so body-wracking. He kept forcing himself to take forced deep breaths until he was breathing steady and calm. But he never stopped holding onto Fiddleford.

It was a nice feeling, even as foreign as it felt to him. Being held onto like this. Wrapped up tight and surrounded by warmth. It made Fiddleford feel safe even when he knew nothing was wrong. He’d even forgotten how Stanford smelled. And breathing in that pine-needle, achingly-familiar scent nearly jogged his memory all on its own. Not specific moments yet. But it filled Fiddleford with a resolve. They’d done this before. They’d held each other like this many times in their past. And doing it again now almost felt like coming home.

Eventually he felt Stanford shift, arms loosening from around him.

“I’m sorry Fidds. It’s been a while since I was on earth but most hugs are awkward after 15 seconds are more, right?” He asked uncertainly.

But Fiddleford just shook his head and hugged him a little tighter. “Not a problem to me. ‘Sides, weren’t we always a lil’awkward? Course we can always stop if you like…”

“No, no. I just didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. This… this is nice.” Stanford said. Then those warm arms wrapped back around him and held him close. “Then again, I have been touch-starved for at least the last decade of my travels, so I still need to adjust to ordinary human-customs.”

Fiddleford laughed and snuggled closer to his chest. “Heh, me too Stanford. I might of never left these back-woods but you could say I fell out of society too. After making my own mistakes.”

“Ah. Maybe we can figure things out together then.” Stanford said.

“I’d love that.”


	8. Request 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I got a fiddauthor request from Bananaquits (on tumblr) “i love your fiddauthor fics, i'm so glad you're taking requests! maybe you could write something about their first kiss???”
> 
> I definitely can! This was a really sweet request and prompt and I hope you enjoy my take on Ford and Fidd’s first kiss!  
> And just so you know I’m taking fiddauthor requests all day today as well as tomorrow (august 4th) So don’t be shy if there’s any last-minute prompts you want to send my way!

Spring semester at Backupsmore was winding to a close. Exams were in one week and everyone who wasn’t planning on staying for the summer was already packing up their dorms.

And while it hadn’t been what Stanford originally wanted he had to admit his freshmen year wasn’t all that bad either. His pre-credentials were easy and if he stayed in school for the summer semester he’d have enough credit hours to already wrap-up his AA. And if he kept up the pace he could be writing dissertations in only a few year! Sure it wasn’t his healthiest year. He’d become a bit of a shut-in here at school and his workload was a nightmare in itself, not to mention his job in the labs to make sure he broke as close to even as he could. But all this intensity and pressure would be worth it if he could get out of this school as fast as he could and start doing the things he actually wanted to do.

Even if he wasn’t entirely sure what that even was yet…

He was doing some light reading, going through his chemistry text book, prepping himself for next week when he heard Fiddleford knock on the door. At least he was pretty sure it was Fiddleford. No one else ever stopped by his room besides his own roommate. And he recognized the light, rhythmic tapping Fiddleford always seemed to use.

“Door’s open!” Ford called out over his shoulder. And still not looking up from his book he heard Fiddleford open the door and step in. “Hi, Fidds.”

“Hi’ya Stanford!” Fiddleford called out, he seemed to be in a happy mood. But his voice went flat when he saw what Ford was doing. “Are you seriously trying to study?”

“I thought it would be worth the effort.” Stanford said, still not ready to put down his book and trying to absorb as much information on polypeptide chains as he still could. If he were honest, it felt like he was reading over the same line a couple times now.

“Worth the- You ain’t spent a day in your life actually studyin’ and you know it!”

It was true. Growing up Stanford had memorized things easily and passed most his classes without even trying. Sure he took notes and did assigned reading and work but he’d never actually taken the extra time to make flashcards or whatever people did to study. And most of his associate’s school work was going the same way. Still though, since all his records from this point forwards would be permanent and the first thing any school saw… “It never hurts to prepare ahead of time. Just in case I forgot anything from earlier this semester. Don’t you study?”

“Nah, I learned a long time ago pouring over books like that don’t help me a bit. They may work for other but it doesn’t really stick for me, ya know?” Fiddleford said.

“I can understand that.” Stanford replied. “But I at least want to try. I can’t afford to get cocky and have to retake everything over the summer. It’d bruise my GPA and waste my time!” _And money_ , Stanford added silently. If he ever failed a class and needed to retake it who knew how Pa would react? Better to just not find out.

“If you have A’s in your classes now, it’s unlikely you’d do anything real bad on you finals. You’d have to get every single question wrong just to get a low C!”

That caught Ford off guard and looked up from his book. He saw Fiddleford was dressed up a little more colorful than normal, yellow “That can’t possibly be right.”

“You better believe it Ford. These exams are only 30% of our grades, and we already have pretty high averages. Don’t have anything to lose by taking the test.” Fiddleford said just a little smugly. “Honestly, I thought you would of done the math as soon as we got them syllabuses.”

“I guess I hadn’t thought of that.” Stanford replied. He’d hadn’t even thought of doing that. Then again he hadn’t planned on getting by on just the bare-minimum alone so it wasn’t something he would have done anyway. Probably.

“So if I asked you to go with me to a concert, you’d say no? Too busy with all your school work.” Fiddleford said, falling down onto Stanford’s bed melodramatically.

Stanford spun around in his computer chair t look at him. “Concert?”

“Yeah, a couple groups here at school are doing this free gig over at the park. I was planning on going with the gang and thought you’d like to come too.” Fiddleford explained.

Stanford gazed down at his page of polypeptides and back at Fiddleford. It would be nice hanging out with Simon and Betty, Rick less so, and it might be fun going to a concert. He’d never gone to any before he started hanging out with Fiddleford more so he didn’t have much point of reference yet. But whenever Fiddleford dig drag him out to some social event he always ended up having a good time with Fidds, no matter what it was they were doing.

Not like he actually know how to study anyways.

So he got up from his desk, finally whittled down. “Ok. I’ll go!”

Fiddleford looked delighted as he hopped off of Stanford’s bed and grabbed him by the hand. “Perfect! It starts and half-an-hour so we better get down there with the others. Find a real nice spot!”

Stanford just nodded, following Fiddleford and being willingly dragged along. And he could already feel himself smiling. Honestly the man acted like a beacon to positive emotions sometimes, maybe something worth experimenting on.

~~~

Stanford, Fiddleford and their small group of friends claimed a spot up on the hill under an oak tree. They had a great view of the make-shift stage in the middle of the field and were far back enough that they could do their own thing without looking like asses. And Rick went on about long-distance sound waves, optimal positioning and acoustics. Stanford knew next to nothing about music but he took Rick’s word for now.

So the five of them had been sitting up there enjoying the evening as the sun set, and afterwards when everyone lit up torches and lamps to keep the concert going. Most of the music was the hippy-experimental sort of stuff Stanford didn’t give much thought to but Fiddleford adored it. He’d get this adorable awed look on his face as groups came on stage and sang ballads about freeing the mind or the cruelty of the world at war. And whenever he closed his eyes, body swaying freely with the music, Stanford couldn’t help but watch, infixed.

After being lab partners, acquaintances, and eventually becoming much closer friends Ford had come to really, really value Fiddleford’s friendship. He honestly had no idea wat he would have done if he hadn’t met Fiddleford. He’d definitely be a lot lonelier, more miserable too no doubt.

He was a great friend. He wasn’t just smart, he was wise. He held on to everything he learned, never wasted anything. And he was kind. One of the kindest people Stanford had ever met. He listened. He cared. When he looked at Stanford he never felt like he was being belittled or observed…

In between performances as each new band set up Fiddleford would pull out his banjo and begin strumming. He had the soft little smile on his face as he played. He looked so peaceful. There was a light breeze tussling his hair. Stanford couldn’t deny it. Whether he was hanging out in an open field playing a banjo like a new-age minstrel, or wearing safety goggles, a lab coat, surrounded by vials and beakers of acid, Fiddleford was beautiful.

When he caught Fiddleford’s gaze he couldn’t help but look back.

And then all at once, without thinking he found himself leaning forwards. And he was pressing his lips against Fiddlefords.

Then he realized what an idiot he was being and pushed himself away. Oh god, that had he just done?

Fiddleford had a strange look on his face. Oh no, oh no this was over. He’d have to transfer to a different school. What had he done?

“Hey, hun wait.” He felt a hand grab his arm.

“Fidds I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok. I promise. Just-“

And then he was pulled back into a kiss.

It was a little weird feeling. Stanford had no idea what he was even doing. But even when he felt like he was fumbling or awkward and sloppy, Fiddleford was there. And he couldn’t have felt happier.


End file.
